


It Hurts Too Much to Love You

by alightinspace



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Frotting, M/M, Still clothed, dubcon??, mild sadstuck, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:50:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alightinspace/pseuds/alightinspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dirk Strider, and you hate being in love with your best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Hurts Too Much to Love You

**Author's Note:**

> Post-relationship Dirk/Jake. Ouch this hurt me to write. I feel like I wrote non-con a bit, even though it isn't?  
> I understand Dirk a lot, and I think that's why I can write as him. Jake is an asshole in this.  
> This is for the anon who requested frotting while still clothed DirkJake and so I turned it into sadstuck. Heeheehee.

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you are in love with your best friend.

You loved when he was so focused like that.His eyes glimmered in that emerald green you loved to watch so much, his lips pursed in concentration while he furrows his brow. He was always so fascinated with these lame ass adventure movies, and you figured that tonight you’d let him watch one of his picks, as badly made as they were. You sat through about half of it, barely paying attention. Some stupid story about dinosaurs coming back to life and the gore was so incredibly fake it made you chuckle a bit to yourself. The acting was half assed as well, but when you turned your focus to Jake, he was so into it. He jumped at every suspenseful moment and every sad scene brought his lip quivering. You snorted. What a dork. But he was your dork, and that was completely and perfectly fine with you.

You noticed that for a good 20 minutes of the movie, you had been staring at him from behind your shades. Jake turns to you, cocking his head in curiousity. You avert your eyes, but he knows you better than that. He always has. His attention now turns fully to you, studying you, trying to figure out your intentions. Your thoughts. He tried his hardest to pry into your mind and you could feel it and it bothered the fuck out of you. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“What?” You blurted out, your tone coming off rather annoyed. Golden eyes met emerald when you stared at each other attentively. He looked almost offended. Damn. Now you were going to hear it.

“My, Dirk. Whatever are you staring at me for?” He blinked a few times and smiled a bit at you. Fuck, he was gorgeous. And that made this all so much worse. Made liking him so much worse. It made everything worse. Because he was your best friend. Your best fucking friend, and you couldn’t HELP but stare at him, because his smile, his face, just seeing him so enticed by something was so fascinating and just utterly beautiful. The way he was engulfed in this movie, the same way he gets so passionate about his adventures, or something of the sort. It took you a moment to realize you didn’t have an answer for him right now.

“I wasn’t.” If Jake hadn’t been sitting next to you, you swear to god you would have facepalmed right there. If that wasn’t the stupidest answer you could give him, you weren’t sure what was. Because now, he was going to pry you. He knew it was a lie. He knew it. You knew it. But it’s not like you could tell him. You’d already tried dating once and…No. You block those thoughts from returning. You lied. He wasn’t yours anymore. You ruined things. You screwed up. And you had to let him go.

But when he opened his mouth to speak, you felt your heart flutter, then shatter, almost instantaneously. It hurt not having him. Not being able to hold him the way you used to. Not being able to kiss him and hold his hand and tell him just how much he meant to you. Because you never did tell him. You never let him know. And that was a problem in itself. You let your shitty self-esteem get in the way, you let your fucking attitude and fear prevent you from keeping him with you. It was your fault and you couldn’t fix it.

You could never act on it.

You could never, ever have him.

“You’re speaking absolute and utter malarkey, Strider.” He retorted, giving you a look that made you almost quiver because of your shame. You sighed, looking away from him and not being able to find words. Your mouth felt dry, and you- inside, you felt absolutely empty. “Tell me the truth.” Shit. He gave you that look. The look of seriousness he always gives you when you need to tell him. When he knows he’ll get his way because, damn, he can manipulate you so well. You’re putty in his hands. A puppet in his collection. And the worst part? You liked that. You liked having him control you. You liked giving the responsibility to him. You probably hate that about yourself the most. The way you let him do whatever he wants. 

He asked you a question, you suddenly remember. He asked you for the truth. For a moment, you considered it. Telling him you loved him, telling him you were sorry. Telling him you’d be better to him and you wanted him back. But you kept to yourself instead. He placed a hand on your shoulder and you shook it off almost violently. 

“Dirk, I feel like I should be offended by the absolute nonsense you are giving me right now.” He sighed and leaned back on the couch. “And here I thought we were going to have a grand ol’ movie night, just like before. When we were bro’s.” That struck up something in you. Stirred you. Taunted you. Weren’t you still bros? Were. That word stuck in your mind. He rolled his eyes at you and turned back to the television, crossing his arms. 

“Fine. If you aren’t going to tell me, then I won’t pry. You can just be pissed off on your own.” You couldn’t respond. You couldn’t or you’d say something you regret. You noticed an obnoxiously loud noise from the television again, and the movie was over. The credits were rolling to an end. You felt your heart sink when he stood up, brushing himself off. “Well, then. I suppose I’d better be going. I have a date tonight and I’m rather riled up for it, so I must get ready!” Jake gave a smile and began to walk away. That’s when you stood up, unable to help your jealousy. Was it jealousy? No, it couldn’t be. Why the FUCK would you be jealous? 

“Date?” You said nonchalantly, “With who?” He gave another eager smile before replying. 

“Why, Jane of course.” Jake nodded eagerly. “This’ll be our third date this week, so I mustn’t be late! Though I do say, Strider,” he gave a strange glance at you, and you knew he was provoking you. You knew it. “it was a thrill spending time with you today.” Before beginning to walk away again, he gave you a wink. Fuck, that set you off. Your hand was on his shoulder, pulling him back roughly and pinning him down on the couch. You got in his face, growling.

“Just who the fuck do you think you are, English?” You hissed, teeth clenched and fists on his shirt clenched even tighter. He gave a cocky grin.

“Whatever do you mean, Dirk? I’m not so sure I understand.” 

“You know damn well what I am talking about.” The two of you exchanged glares and you pressed your fists down on him harder. You pressed your thighs into his knees, holding him down. Fuck if he was getting away with playing with you. For manipulating you. Not again, never again. Never.

“Strider, I would greatly appreciate if you would let me go.” Jake seethed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I have places to be.” 

“Hell if you do.” You demanded, pressing harder down on him. 

“Strider.” Jake retorted, in a way that made you feel as if you SHOULD just let him go. That only made you more upset. He wasn’t winning this one. 

“You know what bugs the living SHIT out of me?” You growled into his ear. “The fact that you think you can go and do whatever you want. That you think that you can use me and manipulate me and I’m fucking sick of it.”

He simply chuckled, moving so your crotches rubbed against each other. You stayed still, choking back a gasp. You knew what he was doing, and no way in hell was this happening. Not when you’re mad at him, not when you’re supposed to be getting over him.

“Stop it.” You pulled your hips away a bit, but he found them just as fast, rutting against them with a smirk. “Jake…” Your voice was stifled, holding back a moan. “Knock it off…”

He let out another low laugh, right in your ear, and it made you practically melt. “You know you don’t want me to stop. You like it when I use you, Dirk. You like it when I do this to you. I know it, and you know it, so you should really stop pretending. “ He grinded against you, and fuck, you let out a shudder and a moan while you moved your hips back. “You think I don’t know you still love me? You make it quite obvious.” The grinding became more frequent, as did your moaning. The friction was too much, and you wanted to pull away, but you couldn’t. He had you captured. You were his. But he wasn’t yours, and that hurt more than anything else.

“Jake, fuck…” You pressed your crotches together, rubbing persistently, the cloth of your jeans and his shorts getting in the way.

“I have you.” He muttered, panting while he returned the friction. “You’re like my bitch, Dirk. You do whatever I say, whatever I want…”

“Shut the fuck up…!” You practically yell at him, coming in your pants quickly after. You pant and moan and you want to fucking cry. Scream at him because he was such an asshole and you didn’t want to love him anymore. You didn’t want to and it hurt and you wanted to die. But you wrapped your arms around him, knowing he came as you did, because you always did in time with each other. You caught your breath, pressing your face, sweaty and damp, against his chest. You shuddered when he stroked your hair gently, but you found yourself leaning into the touch eagerly. 

It took you a moment before you could even admit it to yourself, and you gave him the satisfaction of knowing he was right when you spoke quietly, “I love you.”

He didn’t say anything for awhile, just stroking your hair and letting you lay on top of him in your pathetic mess. After a few moments he responded coyly, “I know.”

You decided it might be a good idea to move off of him, even though every fiber of your being was begging you not to. Begging you to stay with him and hold him while you can.

Maybe this changed his mind. Maybe he still loves you. Maybe the dates with Jane were a lie? A decoy? To get them together again? You hoped a lot that was true, but you knew you were wrong. He stood to leave again, letting you lay helplessly on the couch. Before he left, he brushed himself off again and said, “I suppose I’d better get home and change. I do have a date with a fine lady tonight, after all.” He gave a wink and he was gone. You almost wished he would stay the night with you again, like he had before all those times, but you didn’t even bother. You let the pathetic, stinging tears of your misery fall down your cheeks when you heard the door shut.

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you hate being in love with your best friend.


End file.
